


Cat and Mouse

by rosemacc



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-15 10:45:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2226183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosemacc/pseuds/rosemacc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm done playing cat and mouse with you, my heart can't handle it anymore. You need to choose what you want before I leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cat

**Author's Note:**

> This fic starts in the middle, works its way backwards, and then forward again.
> 
> If you have any suggestions PLEASE tell me! I'm actually going to try to start posting once a week, or once every two weeks now that I'm in college and have a lot of free time! :)

I watched carefully as Ryan had his third shot, then his fourth beer, and so on and so on. I’ve been watching like a hawk all week, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to him about it. I saw him carrying his beer outside of the bar we were all in and waited a few minutes to go out and talk to him. What I found when I went outside wasn’t what I had expected. Ryan was sitting on the ground, a cigarette in one hand and a beer on the ground next to him. He looked like he was about to break down or get into a fight.

 

“Hey Ry,” I greeted, sitting down next to him. “It feels like you’ve been ignoring me all week. Trying to stay away from me or something?”

 

“Every fucking thing about this has to revolve around you, doesn’t it Brendon?” Ryan screamed at me outside of the bar.  “The _moment_ anything isn’t about you, you turn into some jealous little kid.”

 

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?” I responded hotly, walking towards him. He held out the hand that wasn’t holding his bottle of beer as if to keep me away by some mystical force. Ryan’s eyes were sunken in, his face pale, he didn’t even seem like the person I knew. Definitely not like my best friend.

 

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” Ryan said, his words slurring and his face towards the ground. He was crying, I knew that for sure. He does this thing when he cries, you know, he half-hyperventilates and his words are short. I always know when he’s crying.

 

“Ry, please just calm down,” I say, slowly inching closer to him. I try to be as nice and caring as I can in a situation like this, but sometimes things happen.

 

“Get _the fuck_ away from me, Urie,” Ryan spat, the words full of malice. “I don’t need your pity, or your fucking help, or you at all.”

 

“Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? I’m trying to freaking help you, alright? You don’t drink because you hate it, and you’ve been drunk almost nonstop for the past week.” I’m getting louder and louder as I talk. He’s pissing me off, he hasn’t called me by my last name since high school, since he hated me.

 

Ryan stands straighter, dropping his bottle, and looks up at me. His eyes are empty, he seems distant, almost hypnotized. His words form slowly on his lips, dripping with an emotion so close to hatred I don’t know what to call it. “Get away from me, you fucking prick.”  And with that he pushed by me and stumbled down a street.


	2. Mouse-Part1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryans POV. Mostly background. I'm sorry for posting late, so I'm breaking Ryan's chapter into two separate parts...the second part I'll hopefully have up before Friday. :) This is mainly about Ryan's past. :) Enjoy!!

Chapter Two: Mouse

 

I’d been on a downward spiral for weeks and no one even noticed. I’d been coming to practice drunk or doped up on something I couldn’t even pronounce. They’d look at me and not even see that something was wrong, that I was falling apart. But, what do you expect, they’re guys. It was all fine until that night. I couldn’t even believe it when the guys all invited me out for drinking.

 

_Seriously, what the fuck guys?_

 

Anyway, I digress.  Lets get two things out of the way before I get to the pathetically boring story of the day I told my best friend to fuck off.

 

First: I don’t lie about how I feel to anyone, well I don’t like to anyway.

 

Second: My father was an alcoholic.

 

To explain my first confession I’m going to grace you with the story of my senior year of high school.  This whole story starts with Grayson telling me he wanted to study chem after school. I was a-okay with that. I needed any help I could get in that class. We stayed after and about twenty minutes after we started studying he told me he wanted to try something. Before I had the chance to ask what was wrong Grayson kissed me, unsure and awkward. It was one of the most defining moments of my high school career. Sure, I’d kissed a few people. It didn’t matter to me whether they were girls or guys, but this was different. I was just being used as a puppet for his experiment. As he kissed me I hated him, I loathed every moment of the kiss. When he finally stopped kissing me he went back to normal, we finished studying and as we were parting ways he asked me if I liked it. I said yes not to hurt his feelings, but that hurt me a lot more than it would have hurt him to tell him the truth. The rest of senior year I was used to get his ‘gay fantasy’ out of his system and I didn’t know how to tell him I hated it, that I hated him. That’s why I don’t lie about my feelings anymore.

 

My father being an alcoholic isn’t that big of a deal. Brendon always used to get weird when people would drink around me, and it was kind of sweet. The drinking didn’t bother me as much as the beatings did. It was because I liked guys, he never started drinking until my mom left. She left because she walked in on me and Jarett making out. That was my fault, I didn’t think either of them would be home. Anyway, after she left he started drinking, and then he started hitting me. I took it. It kept going on until I moved out a year and a half ago to go live with Spencer. Brendon and Spencer shared an apartment, and then I showed up in the middle of the night half-unconscious and bloody. Brendon silently helped me in the door and cleaned me up. He made sure I didn’t sleep in case I had a concussion, and after that night he never mentioned it. To be honest, I think he thought I was bluffing when I said my dad hit me. After that night he was always weird and insisting that I would stay with he and Spencer, but I couldn’t just move out. He never let anyone drink near me, and always tried to get me out of any fight I was in. It was really sweet, but my dad’s drinking problem was my fault, and I needed to accept that.


	3. Mouse part 2

Okay, so it was a Friday night and the guys asked me to go to a bar and get some drinks. I was already flattened when they asked me, so I didn’t even care. I sobered up a little when they said there was a possibility we might play a set, but as soon as we got there I was at the bar. I was coughing down my third shot when Bren came over, happy as usual. Thankfully the bartender took away my other two shot glasses so Bren didn’t know exactly how much I drank.

 

“Hey Ry, how’re you?” He asked me with that stupid concerned look on his face.

 

“I’m fine,” I wasn’t. “I’m just not feeling a night out, honestly.”

 

“Oh, come on. The night hasn’t even started,” Brendon proclaimed, hopping out of his seat and posing like a superhero. “I’m going to make sure you have a fun night.”

 

“Bren, that’s a lie. You know it,” I smiled faintly up at him, our fingers brushing. He blushed slightly at this and gave me a knowing smile. It was cute how he did that. I told him often about that.

 

The truth of the matter is that Brendon and I had a small kind-of thing going on. We were together around Spence, by ourselves, and sometimes we’d screw around on stage. But when we were out in public we were just really close friends. It was kind of sad, but I didn’t tell Bren that..even though I hate lying about my feelings, I just couldn’t tell him that it hurt my heart.

 

Anyway, as the night progressed some girls came up to talk to us..and by us I mean Brendon. He’s always the one that got the girls. Brendon being Brendon, he flirted with them. He even bought one a drink and gave her his number. Within ten minutes of them being there I’d consumed more alcohol than I should have.

 

“I’ll be back in a few,” I whispered in Brendon’s ear. I left the bar, my head spinning and a bottle in my hand. I went to the side of the bar and sat on the ground for a few seconds then I got up and punched the wall.  “What the fuck, Brendon. I fucking hate this. God dammit.”

 

I went around front after I’d simmered down and Brendon came out of the building. _God dammit. Exactly who I didn’t want to talk to right now._

 

I pretended that I didn’t see him and he sat down next to me, his aura reeking of concern that was honestly just pissing me off. It’s really just because I’d had a lot to drink…but it was really not what I needed right then.

 

“Hey Ry,” Brendon said when he sat down. He looked like he was going to cry. “It feels like you’ve been ignoring me all week. Trying to stay away from me or something?”

 

Staying away from _him_ all week? Is he fucking kidding me? He was the one who told me we needed to back down because people were actually thinking we’re gay for each other..which..I don’t even want to get into.

“Every fucking thing about this _has_ to revolve around you, doesn’t it Brendon?” I screamed, losing my temper completely. I had had enough of him and his goddamn attitude. “The _moment_   anything isn’t about you, you turn into a jealous little kid”

 

I could see the anger flicker in his eyes. I knew it was go time. He was about to go off, and he knew I loved making him angry. I got up and started walking away, bottle in hand.

 

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?” He asked me, his movements erratic. He was walking towards me and I didn’t like it. I held out my hand for him to stop, he did. I felt like he actually didn’t know what I was talking about..how could he _not_   know?

 

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” I said, my words slurring. I turned around and looked at the ground. As much as I tried to keep it together, I felt the hot stream of tears fall down my cheeks. My breath was short and I was shaking, I didn’t want Brendon to know I was crying.

 

“Ry,” he said quietly, coming towards me again. He said it in his sweet smooth voice that normally makes me melt, but today it just made me upset. “Please just calm down.”

 

I felt his body heat near me and I instantly got angry. “Get _the fuck_ away from me, Urie,” I said so angrily I could almost taste it. “I don’t need your pity, or your fucking help, or you at all!”

 

I could tell it was a blow to him, he looked like I just hit him with a truck. I hadn’t called him by his last name since high school when we hated each other. I guess that last bit was little overreaction, but I was drunk. I regret it to this day, but I can’t change it now.

 

“Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” He asked me, looking genuinely hurt. “I’m trying to freaking help you, alright? You don’t drink because you hate it, and you’ve been drunk almost nonstop for the past week.”

 

So he did fucking notice that I was drunk? He didn’t ask me anything? My head was swimming. I couldn’t look at him and I couldn’t think.

 

“Get away from me, you fucking prick,” I said as I pushed by him and walked down the street. My mind was still on the fact that he didn’t even care that I was drinking, that he didn’t say anything until I was screaming at him at midnight. I eventually stumbled into a hotel and managed to give the lady my information and went to bed thinking about what had happened between Brendon and I.


	4. Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for such the long pause in between writings. :( I feel so bad. I was having a really bad time this semester and I've had half of this chapter written for months but I didn't want to give you all a two paragraph chapter!

_Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzz_

 

“Bren, you need to answer him at some point,” Spencer groaned. He was tired of listening to my phone go off. I couldn’t help it; I wasn’t going to answer it. Not now.

 

“You don’t understand, Spence,” I argued, Ryan’s words flooding back into my ears from last night. “He called me a ‘fucking prick’ and said that ‘he didn’t need my pity’ so I’m not going to be around when he calls.”

 

Spencer sat up on the couch of our apartment and looked at me. “This is bigger than that and you know it. He’s been a wreck all week, something’s up. You need to talk to him and get him to tell you what’s happening.”

 

“What are you even talking about?” I asked, feigning stupidity. I’d noticed. Ryan had consumed enough liquor that week that he could have been a bar. “And why is it _my_ job to make sure he’s okay? He’s _your_ best friend.”

 

I knew I was being childish, but I was just..so angry at Ry. He’s being so selfish, why couldn’t he just let things stay how they were now?

 

“Yeah, well, he’s your _boyfriend_ ,” Spencer said, dragging me back into reality. The word hurt me. It was a word I never wanted to be spoken, a word that scared me. “At least that’s how it seems to me.”

 

“Ry’s not my boyfriend,” I said seriously. We had had a talk about this. Behind closed doors only. No one was supposed to know. “Its not my fault he’s strangely into me.”

 

I could feel my face getting hot. I felt like I was spiraling into an abyss. I couldn’t keep lying to Spencer right now, my state of mind was too frantic. I heard him saying something but I left the room to go sit in my room and calm down. I flung down on my bed and covered my face with my pillow.

 

_Bzzzzz Bzzzzz Bzzzzzz_

“What do you want?” I answered the phone.

 

“What the fuck, man? I’ve been calling you _all morning_ ,” Ryan asked, sounding more hurt than I’d expected.

 

“I said what do you _want_?” I asked pointedly. I didn’t want to cave this time, just because I ‘hurt his feelings’ doesn’t mean I should just lay down and die.

 

The phone was silent for a few minutes, all I could hear was his breathing and then the click of the phone when he hung up.

_What a baby. He should be apologizing to me for being a dick last night, I shouldn’t be groveling to him, right?_

About a half hour later I left my room to go and get some food, I heard Spencer in his room talking to someone. It’s probably Jon..or that girl he gave his number at the bar last night. I was pulling two pieces of bread out of the toaster when he came out of his room with a panicked look on his face.

 

“Dude, you alright?” I asked, shoving the toast into my mouth.

 

“I’m fine, but you need to get your shit together with Ryan alright?” Spencer said, looking me right in the eye. “After you blew him off on the phone he tried walking back here and ran into his dad, and I’m sure you can figure out how that went.”

 

I was horrified. I can’t believe I let my friend be subjected to that. _Shit._ “Let me come with you.”

 

As we pulled up to the diner Ryan said he was going to be at I started to feel nauseous, what was going to happen when I saw Ry?


	5. Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its taken so long. I'm literally the worst. My Brendon chapter is halfway done, so I'll try to post it this week to make up for my long lapse. 
> 
> love you all :)

_Hi this is Brendon, if I didn’t answer I’m probably asleep or ignoring you. Either way leave a message. Beeeeeeep._

“Dammit!” I groaned, lying back on the motel bed. I’d been calling Brendon all morning and he hasn’t answered. What if I was hurt? What if I was in some sort of accident and calling him for help? He’d feel like an ass.

 

My head hurt like a bitch, I’d definitely overdone it last night. Last night….what even happened last night? I remember going to the bar…and I remember Brendon flirting with those girls….I remember drinking..and drinking. After a while I went outside…and wandered here to this motel right?

 

I went downstairs and got some food from the breakfast bar, trying to calm myself down. When I finished eating I grabbed my stuff from the room and checked out.  I was sitting in the lobby when I decided to call Bren one more time.

 

It rang three times and then I heard the click. _Thank god._

 

“What do you want?” Answered Brendon on the other side.

 

“What the fuck man? I’ve been calling you _all morning,”_ I said. The way he answered the phone disturbed me. I couldn’t believe how he was treating me after he flirted with those girls all night.  There was a slight pause before he answered.

 

“I said what do you _want?”_ Brendon asked, he words sharp and his tone angry.

 

_Why the hell is he angry at me? I didn’t DO anything last night. I’d been the one self-destructing while he was off fucking around and having a good time. God knows that if I even got ONE girls attention he’d have me in the dog house for a week._

 

I hung up the phone after I’d thought for a minute. If he’s going to act this way I’m not going to take it. He doesn’t think I’m important enough to talk to then whatever.  I asked the firl at the desk what part of town I was in and then I set off. I’d walked about two miles before I started to feel tired. That’s when I noticed that there was a car that had been following me for 8 blocks.

 

_Definitely nothing, I’m just being irrational. Its probably just someone driving home from work or something._

 

Still mildly freaked out I decided that I would take a back alley around to get to the other side of complex I was near. The car had kept going the way it was, so I relaxed and kept walking. It wasn’t until I reached the end of the alley that I noted that the car was blocking the exit. I stalled. I couldn’t move, I was terrified. But not as terrified as I was when my father got out of the drivers seat and stepped towards me.

 

“How’s your boyfriend, Ryanne? Or was it Rylin?” He started asking. My feet were stuck to the ground. I hadn’t seen my father in over two years and with good reason. I opened my mouth to say something, but it was so dry.  I couldn’t form any words.

 

“I said: How’s your boyfriend, faggot?” He asked again. He was three feet away. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Are you going to answer me?”

 

Something snapped in me. I ran towards my father, attempting to knock him over. He dodged me and then came at me. It took about fifteen minutes for him to completely destroy me. Many punches and slurs later I laid on the, blood dripping out of my mouth. My father reached down and took my wallet out of my pocket, everything was in there. I heard the car door close and the engine rev. I curled up, fearing the worst. I haven’t seen my father in so long, I know how much he hates me, so I didn’t even put it past him to hit me with his car. Much to my relief the car pulled away, I laid there for a minute before I got up and started coughing up blood. I felt sore all over. My ribcage felt like it had been hit with a sledge hammer, I couldn’t breathe. I remembered seeing a Denny’s a block back before I entered the alleyway, so I picked myself up and limped to the diner. When I slumped down in the booth the waitress brought me a cup of coffee “on the house” she said.

 

I pulled out my phone and opened it. Brendon is the first contact in my phone. Just looking at the name made me angry. I could feel the bile in my stomach start to boil.

 

_If he would have just listened to me earlier I wouldn’t be in this fucking mess. I would have gotten a ride and not ran into my fucking dad._

I dialed Spencer’s number, and then laid my head down on the table.

 

“Ry?” Spencer answered, sounding concerned. “Is this about Brendon?”

 

“No. But fuck him,” I spat into my phone. “I need a ride, and Brendon keeps blowing me off.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t really understand what his problem is today. Are you okay? You sound a little off or something,” Spencer asked.

 

“I was walking back to the apartment and I happened to run into my dad…” I trailed off, not wanting to get into the details.

 

“Did he..?” Spencer inquired awkwardly, I could tell he didn’t want to pry. “Never mind. It’s fine. Where are you?”

 

“I’m at the Denny’s on 5th,” I replied. “And yeah, he did.”

 

I hung up before he could answer. Spencer always go emotional and philosophical about that stuff, I don’t really know why. Its just a part of how my life is: My dad hates me, and so do I.


	6. Cat

“Brendon, you biting your fingernails and freaking out isn’t going to change the fact that this is your fault,” Spencer told me.

 

I just sat there and looked at him. I knew it was my fault. I wasn’t even sure if I should be going. I didn’t want to know what Ryan’s state was. But not going sounded like a bad idea. I couldn’t win either way.

 

“What should I even say to him, Spence?” I asked, my leg bouncing up and down. We were on Main Street, it would take about five minutes to get to Ryan.

 

“I don’t think you should say anything unless he says something to you,” he replied, turning onto Third. “Remember in high school? He didn’t usually talk after ..incidents…with his dad.”

 

“Yeah, but I never—I don’t—uh—“ I stuttered, not really sure what to say.

 

We pulled up to the Denny’s and I took a breath. My heart was racing. I felt like I was going to fall over. Ryan may have been a little bit of an asshole last night, but I hadn’t expected any of this to happen. If I had known..I wouldn’t have let it happen.

 

Ryan exited the building struggling to get to the car. Spencer got out and I waited in the car. He helped Ryan into the car and shut his door, throwing a look at me.  When he got in the car the ride back was awkwardly silent. Spencer tried to make small talk but nobody wanted to talk. I looked at Ryan in the rearview mirror. His mouth had blood on the side of it and his right eye was slightly puffy and turning blue. He had a visible bruise on his neck, and that was only what I could see.

 

“I’m sorry I blew you off this morning…” I apologized, not looking at Ryan. I couldn’t handle looking at him right now. I could feel his disdain for me.

 

He took a sharp breath, didn’t look into the mirror or move at all. He didn’t say anything the entire ride home, and then when we got to the apartment he took a shower and then holed up in his room.

 

I sat in the kitchen with my head on the counter. I was so fucked. I completely screwed up and now Ryan’s going to hate me forever. How was I supposed to know that he was going to run into his dad? How is that my fault?

 

“If you’re trying to think of how to fix this you need to go talk to him,” Spencer said, sitting on the barstool next to me.

 

“How can I talk to him? He’s so..pissed at me. This is all my fault,” I answered, lifting my head slightly and letting it drop onto the countertop.

 

“Yeah, basically its all your fault,” Spencer shrugged, standing up and getting something to drink out of the fridge. “If you would have just gotten over whatever pissed you off yesterday, none of this would have happened.”

 

“What?” I was mad. He wasn’t supposed to agree with me. It wasn’t my fault that Ryan got drunk and had a tantrum. It wasn’t my fault that he flipped out. It wasn’t my fault that he hung up this morning either. “You know what, this isn’t my fault. He could have just come home last night, but he got drunk and had a hissy fit.”

 

“Oh, so I had a hissy fit?” Ryan’s voice came from behind me. I turned to see him leaning in the entryway of the kitchen. “My telling you how I felt was a ‘hissy fit?’”

 

I had seriously fucked up. I didn’t expect Ryan to come out of his room for the rest of the night and I definitely didn’t expect to hear that. I stood there dumbfounded, my mouth slightly ajar.

 

“So you don’t have anything to say? Mr. No-one-can-ever-shut-me-the-hell-up Urie was finally brought down? You’re seriously being so pathetic. If I actually meant anything to you, you would have asked if I was alright.”

 

I stood there staring at him. There was no way I could win. By instinct I wanted to defend myself from what he was saying and argue with him, but I knew that he was hurting so I didn’t want to do that either.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come get you this morning. If I could take it back I would, but I can’t,” I answered, keeping my voice steady and calm. “I was angry about you telling me to fuck off last night. I was just trying to see if you were alright and you just freaked out.”

 

He stared at me, his eyes wide with the anger he had stored up all day. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting him to say, but what he did surprised me.

 

“You were flirting with those girls all night, Bren,” He started, erratically moving his hands about. “I was sitting there getting plastered all night, and you were _flirting_ with some random bar sluts. You _know_ how I feel about alcohol, and you didn’t even ask me if I was alright.”

 

And with that, Ryan stormed back to his room and shut the door. Leaving me alone to think about everything.


	7. Mouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be the worst at updating but I am going to make up for it with hella chapters asap.

I sat in the Denny’s looking at every car that passed, hoping it was Spencer coming to my rescue. My coffee was untouched and I could already feel bruises forming on my body from the hands of my father, yet the only thing that I could think of was Brendon.

 

 _Why is he being so pissy at me? I didn’t even do anything last night._  

 

After what seemed like an eternity Spencer pulled up to the curb. When I looked into the car I saw Bren in the front seat. 

 

_Great. Exactly who I didn’t want to see._

 

I got up from my table and started walking towards the door, every step sending a shooting pain down my spine.  It was nothing I couldn’t handle.  I’d gotten much worse from my father before and gone to school with it.  I don’t know why I was so weak after this beating, it didn’t make sense to me.

 

As I exited the building Spencer rushed over to me and grabbed my arm to help me walk.  I shrugged him off and shot him a look.

 

“I don’t need your help, I can do this by myself,” I grumbled, still not exactly steady on my feet.

 

“Brendon’s here, just so you know,” Spencer warned me, putting his hand on my back as if to make sure I wasn’t going to fall.

 

“Why is he here?” I groaned, annoyed. “He didn’t want to come get me this morning because he’s a petty bitch.”

 

Spencer shot me a look. I never talked like that.  I was probably the combination of a mild hangover and seeing my father. Either way, I never called Bren a name like that, it wasn’t really my style.

 

“Listen, he’s upset about what he did and he’s blaming himself for your state. Just go easy on him,” Spencer said before he opened the back door of the car and helped me in. 

 

 _Why should I go easy on him? It IS his fault that my dad found me. For all I know my dad could find out where I’ve been hiding out._ I rolled my eyes internally and buckled myself into the car.

 

“I’m sorry I blew you off this morning…” Brendon’s voice said shakily.  I could tell he was nervous to say anything to me.

 

_Yeah you should be._

 

A million answers ran through my head ranging from accepting his apology to screaming at him.  I breathed in, unsure of what to say and decided to just stare out the window until we got home.

 

The ride six miles from  the Denny’s to the apartment was the longest and most painful car ride I had ever had to endure in my entire life.  With every minute I could feel a new bruise forming on my body and I could feel my friendship or relationship ( _Whatever the hell it is)_ with Bren slipping away. 

 

We finally pulled up to our building and I got out of the car, denying Spencer’s help again.  When we finally reached our door I opened it and then headed straight to my room, not wanting to deal with either of my roommates at the moment. 

 

I grabbed a new set of clothes and headed to the shower, in need of cleansing myself of the day that had barely began. I peeled my clothes off inspecting each inch of my flesh as I did, counting each new bruise.

 

_This is definitely not the worst it’s ever been.  At least I’m resilient._

 

I got into the shower and turned the water to the hottest it could be. I sat down in the stream of water, my dads words rushing back to my.

 

_‘Hows your boyfriend, faggot?’_

 

I shuddered under the hot water.  My dad had always been able to get under my skin.  Once when I was just outed he wouldn’t let me go to band practice because he thought we were all just having an orgy or some shit.  Before I was even outed he would use homophobic slurs around me and it would make me feel like shit even worse than I already was for not knowing what I wanted. 

 

_“All of these fairies all over the fuckin’ news all the time” my dad started a tirade, “If they want to get fucked like a bitch they should just wear dresses and stand on a street corner.”_

_I nodded in false agreeance. I couldn’t wait to go up to my room and get away from him._

_“Fuckin’ faggots. They’re just not right.  What kind of guy would want that shit? Its fuckin’ disgusting. They’re fuckin’ disgusting faggots.”_

I exited the shower in a tank top and some sweats, the only clothes that would be loose enough that I wouldn’t add to my pain, and started towards the kitchen.  I  could hear Spencer and Brendon talking so I leaned against the doorway just in time to hear Brendon go off.

 

“What?” Brendon said angrily, swinging his arms around animatedly. “ You know what, this isn’t my fault.  He could have just come home last night, but he got drunk and had a hissy fit.”

 

 ** _I_** _had a hissy fit? WHAT THE FUCK.  HE was the one who was being a fucking asshole the whole night. Inviting me out and then not even talking to me..._

“Oh, so _I_ had a hissy fit?” I said from behind him, trying to hide the hurt in my voice. He turned around and looked at me with an almost horrified look.  I saw him scan my body, seeing all of my bruises, and it made me hate him more. 

 

_I hate that he’s looking at me with those pitying eyes.  I dealt with this before and I sure as hell don’t need his pity now._

 

“So you don’t have anything to say? Mr. No-on-can-ever-shut-me-the-hell-up Urie was finally brought down?” I started, the words falling off my tongue like venom. “If I actually meany anything to you, you would have asked if I was alright.”

 

I looked at him, hoping he would say something. Anything. Anything but what he did say next.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come get you this morning. If I could take it back I would, but I can’t.” He stated calmly, as if I didn’t matter at all. “I was angry about you telling me to fuck off last night. I was just trying to see if you were alright and you freaked out.”

 

  _He has to be FUCKING kidding me.  Does he think that that justifies leaving his best friend stranded?_

 

“You were FLIRTING with those _girls_ all night, Bren,” I seethed.  I couldn’t even look at him.  I was so angry that he didn’t even consider my feelings.  “I was sitting there getting _plastered_ all night, and you were flirting with some _random bar sluts._ You KNOW how I feel about alcohol, and you didn’t even ask me if I was alright.”

 

I didn’t want to hear his excuse. I stormed back to my room and slammed the door, letting the self-loathing sink in. 


End file.
